


Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

by Stylinsonvodka



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Bottom Louis, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Harry's Kind of a Douche, Innocent Louis, Liam and Louis Are Brothers, Loss of Virginity, Louis Barely Speaks English, M/M, Most of Which is in Italian, Mpreg, Overstimulation, Pregnant Louis, Punk Harry, Punk Liam, Recreational Drug Use, Riding, Rimming, Smut, Top Harry, and Zayn's Sick Like All the Time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 21:46:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stylinsonvodka/pseuds/Stylinsonvodka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Louis' a good Catholic school boy and Harry's the London native that accidentally gets him pregnant. </p><p>(ft. countless coffee shop dates, misused English curses, and Niall.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt _Hi can you do a larry where Louis is Italian and he doesn't speak English and he has to go to uni in England and he meets punk!harry in his English class and Harry offers to help him out after school and they fuck (bottom louis) and louis' begging for it in Italian and shit. Then louis gets pregnant and yeah. Pleaseeee? ~Adelaide x_ which i should have posted seventy six years ago??? but didnt??? so to light a fire under my ass i decided to spit it up into chapters!!
> 
> important notes
> 
> \- when louis and liam talk anytime at all its in italian unless otherwise specified
> 
> \- any actual italian featured i stole from wikihow and google translate so if you actually know italian dont read this it will make you unhappy 
> 
> \- zayn has his japan hair cause thats actually the most important thing in the world
> 
> \- and im sorry it took me so long to get up but omg i hope you like it????

So Louis had snapped. After years of being perfect (and pressed and molded and pressured into being just that), Palermo's golden boy had hit his breaking point. 

It wasn't as disastrous as Louis' parents had made it out to be, he thinks. He hadn't developed a drug problem, or any anger control issues, and he hadn't just come home one day (from his perfect, prestige Catholic school), and told his mum and dad off for all he had thought they had done wrong (and that was a long list). He had just hit a point, for the first time in all his eighteen years of life, where he realized he wanted more than rehearsed bible verses and perfectly pressed shirts. He wanted things normal eighteen year olds had. He wanted to get bruises playing football (and to play football) (his parents never let him), and know what it was like to have a hangover, and get a tattoo he'd probably regret for the rest of his life. He wanted to curse, and to have had his first kiss, and he wanted to go to a party that would get stopped by the cops and where not a single person was serving champagne. Being raised by a couple of devout Catholics, Louis had spent his entire life being sheltered, and finally a time came when all he wanted was to break the fuck out of that shell. 

So when a new kid had arrived at his school, he had snapped. 

His name had been Aiden, and he had a hoop through his lower lip. He wore heavy boots with his school uniform, and he had a small bird tattooed on the inside of his left wrist. He was everything Louis was supposed to hate, but Louis didn't hate him. 

On the contrary, actually. Louis loved him. 

He had realized years ago that he was gay. He had never thought much of it, thinking he could more or less keep it hidden from his parents until he had the means to leave home. He hadn't even meant to ever act on it, until Aiden had waltzed into his life, and Louis had fallen in love for the first time. 

And theirs was a torrid affair. Louis would sneak out at night to meet him, and nearly every day they would skip class to spend the day making out lazily in the back of Aiden's old Mercedes. They were together six months before it all fell apart. 

'Cause, like, Louis wasn't used to needing to sneak around. So when his parents told him they'd be gone all weekend, he took their word for it. He invited Aiden over, not at all anticipating that they'd come home a day early and walk in on their only son with his lips wrapped around the head of some strange bloke's cock.

Which didn't sit very well with them, naturally. 

Louis still doesn't think he's done anything too ghastly. Sex before marriage is pretty bad, he supposes, and he thinks he's gonna be mad at himself forever for not being more careful, but he doesn't think anything he's done had warranted his parents frowning up at him in disappointment as they told him he's to stay with his stepbrother, Liam, until he's finished UNI. 

Liam is Louis' dad's son. He's several years older than Louis, and had moved away from home the very day he had turned eighteen. And as dearly as Louis had missed him, Louis didn't (at all) want to move in with him, and not just because Liam apparently took after his father to the letter. It's mostly because Liam lives in England. And Louis doesn't speak any English. 

He knows how to curse, of course. Several words of which he utters, in quick succession, as some young woman pushes past him in the airport and nearly knocks his suitcase from his arms. 

She turns to him immediately, eyes wide, and says several long winded sentences Louis doesn't understand at all. (Like, nothing. In the slightest.) She seems apologetic, though, so Louis pretends for a moment that she is, and smiles tentatively at her until she smiles back and turns away. 

It's really weird. Louis misses home. 

He's starting to wonder why even decided to start breaking the rules. His life had been fine. He had been somewhat happy, and in a nice country where everybody around him had spoken the same language as him. He realizes he may have taken that for granted. 

He pulls his suitcase close behind him as he wanders through the airport, lower lip between his teeth. Everybody around him seems to be talking at top volume, and not a single word of it is in a language he understands. They all seem to be in some big hurry, too, and people are brushing past and bumping into him much more than he's comfortable with. He starts to seriously consider just turning around and flying right back home, when he hears, in Italian, "Louis! Is that you?", and he turns around so fast it nearly makes him dizzy. 

"Liam?" He calls.

He stands on his toes, trying to see properly through the rapidly growing crowd around him. He doesn't receive an immediate response, and his heart nearly starts to sink, when Liam finally steps from the crowd in front of him (and a little ways off to the left) with a grin. "Louis," he greets, and Louis leaves his suitcase behind in favour of sprinting over and wrapping his arms around Liam tightly. 

"Liam!" He cries. 

Liam laughs, hugging Louis quickly. He's gotten taller, Louis notices, and broader and stronger and hotter, and Louis' pleasantly surprised to note that one of his arms is covered entirely in black and grey tattoos. He doesn't seem to be half as clean cut as Louis was warned he'd be, and he's so relieved he can't keep himself from laughing against Liam's chest. 

"What happened to you?" He cries (in Italian, of course, because English is a stupid ass language and he doesn't care to learn it) (he receives quite a few pointed looks from the people around them). 

Liam laughs again. "What do you mean?" 

"Mum said you were just like dad! She sent me here to fix me!" 

"I know," he shrugs, and when Louis only furrows his brow, he laughs. "I lied to her, babe. She called and said you needed to be rehabilitated, and I told her I was running a prayer group. Figured you could use a break to be normal." 

Louis looks up at him. "Are you kidding?" He asks, and when he only shakes his head, Louis throws his arms around him again. "You're ridiculous!" 

"I know," he agrees, laughing again as he kisses Louis' hair. "C'mon, go get your bag. We need to hurry. I promised my boyfriend we'd pick him up some cough syrup on the way home." 

Louis stops for a moment, glancing up at Liam with wide eyes. "Boyfriend?" 

Liam nods. "He's sick." 

"But," Louis says. He thinks he wants to laugh. He had been so prepared to hate life in England, had even toyed with the notion of running away, had been so convinced that his brother would be even more uptight than their parents and would shelter him that much more. (He doesn't think he's ever been so happy to be wrong.) 

Liam looks mildly concerned. "What?" 

"You have a boyfriend."

He raises his eyebrows. "I do."

Louis can't keep himself from giggling. "How have you kept that hidden from mum?" 

Liam laughs. "She asks if I have a girlfriend and I say no." 

"Does he mind that he can't meet your family?" Louis asks, and Liam lifts one shoulder. 

"Not really," he says slowly. "Both our families are kinda fucked, so he understands." 

"His family is religious, too?" Louis asks. 

He shakes his head. "No. They just don't like me very much."

Louis frowns. "Why not?" 

"It's kind of a long story," Liam says. "I'm just a couple years older than him and his parents don't like that he ran away from home to live with me." 

"You live together?" Louis asks. 

"We do," Liam laughs. "And we've got to hurry and get home to him because he expects me there soon and with medicine." 

Louis nods, finally stepping away from Liam to rush back over to his (thankfully not stolen) suitcase. He grabs it by the handle, and drags it after him, as he links his arm through Liam and glances around the airport again. "How do we get out of here?" He asks. 

_._


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i??? i literally havent updated this in seven years??? and i just?? idk why?? im so sorry???????

The ride back to Liam's flat is a long one. He doesn't live very far from the airport (quite the contrary, actually), but the pharmacy that he insists that they find is as out of the way as is probably humanly possible. Liam claims that it's because his boyfriend refuses to take medicine from anywhere else, but the scenery is nice enough that Louis can't bring himself to complain. 

They're in the wealthiest part of the city, and he watches the tall buildings and expensive cars as the spill out across the landscape as they pass. Liam's car, too, is sleek and black and expensive, and Louis wonders, not for the first time, what it is that he does for a living. He knows that their family has a lot of money, but their parents are strong believers in making your own way, and he can't imagine that they would have given Liam any money, let alone enough for the car that he's driving. He immediately assumes insurance fraud, for some reason, or some other type of criminal activity, but he doesn't think that Liam would let Louis be dragged down into that with him. He can be an asshole at the best of times, but he does care about Louis, and Louis likes to think that he cares enough to not let Louis be dragged off to prison with him. They're on the way back from the pharmacy when he finally asks, bag of cold medicine at Louis' feet. 

"What do you do?" (In Italian.)

Liam looks up, in the process of dragging his free hand through his hair. "What?" 

"For a living," Louis adds. He glances back out the window, at the other dark, passing cars, and he can't keep from cracking a smile as he looks back up at Liam. "Why do you have so much money?" Everybody else seems to be some kind of businessman, or the spouse of businessman, or a celebrity of some kind (Louis' never really been allowed to watch television, so he doesn't know for certain, but it's not hard to guess), and he knows for a fact that Liam is none of the former. He crosses his fingers for celebrity, more or less because it's a step above insurance fraud and Louis still doesn't want to go to jail. 

"Oh," Liam says, and nods. "I have a television show. But I don't suppose you would have heard about that." 

Louis shakes his head. Their parents had only purchased a television after Liam had moved out, and even then, it had never been used. They hadn't wanted today's media to taint Louis, or something, and they had only ever used it to watch biblical biographies or sermons or whatever the fuck else. 

Liam nods again. "Well it's kind of dumb. It's another post apocalyptic trope, and I play the rugged and thuggish main character who secretly has a heart of gold." Louis laughs, and Liam cracks a grin as he nods again. "But the pay is good. And it's gotten my name out there." 

Louis nods. "Aren't you worried mum and dad are gonna click to the news one day and find out something about you? You're a celebrity, your private life can't be all that private."

"It isn't," Liam agrees, shaking his head. "But they couldn't care less about what's going on in the world, especially where celebrities are concerned."

Louis laughs again. "Are you in the news a lot?" 

Liam shrugs. "I don't really follow myself in the news," he admits. "I'll see paps sometimes, but I don't really look to see what they say about me." 

Louis doesn't know if he can blame him. He may not be the most educated on the happenings of the celebrity lifestyle, but he can imagine. If there are people willing to spend their days following celebrities for the chance to take a single good picture, there are probably people out there willing to make false headlines about celebrities for the chance to make some money from them. 

Louis wonders if any headlines will be made about Liam's trip to the airport today. He hadn't seen any cameras while they had been there, but he hadn't been keeping his eye out for any. He likes to imagine that the accompanying headlines would be along the lines of _Liam Payne Seen With Beautiful Brunette Bombshell_ , or _Does Liam Have a Beautiful New Beau?_ , but he has a feeling it would probably lean more towards, _Actor Liam Payne: Now Scraping The Bottom of the Barrel?_ Louis doesn't actually know what any of Liam's past conquests have looked like, but everybody he's seen in London has so far been so beautiful that he assumes it's a safe bet that they're the norm. 

Louis looks over to Liam again, chewing idly on the end of his sleeve. He likes to think that he'd make an amiable celebrity boyfriend, given that he's at least somewhat cute, but he doesn't know if he's cute enough that the fans would accept him or if he's just the kind of cute that the fans would pretend doesn't exist. 

"What if people think we're dating?" He asks finally, lowering his arms to his lap as curiosity gets the better of him. "Will your fans hate me?"

"Maybe a little," Liam says, and Louis blinks, before Liam reaches his free hand out towards him and barks out a laugh. "I'm sorry," he says, shaking his head. "I'm kidding." 

Louis makes an affronted sort of noise, turning his chin up accusingly. If there's one thing that Louis hates, it's being disliked, even if it's by strange girls that adore his brother and that don't quite know that he exists yet. "So you think they _would_ like me?" 

"I'm sure they would," Liam nods. "Hard to tell with teenage girls, though." 

"Do they like your boyfriend?" Louis asks curiously, looking down as the plastic bag of bottles skitters across his foot as Liam rounds a particularly sharp corner. He nudges it back to one side, glancing back up at Liam as Liam nods again. 

"They warmed up to him pretty quickly," he says. 

"Does he act, too?" Louis asks, and he shakes his head. 

"He's a student. He's studying to be an English teacher." 

"Does he go to my new school?" 

"He does," Liam says, and shakes his head before Louis can get too excited. "Different building, though. He's a couple years above you."

Louis huffs. He doesn't actually know Liam's boyfriend, but it would have been nice to at least be able to recognize a friendly face in a few of his classes. He's not usually very shy, but he's been dropped in a strange place that's fluent in a language he can barely recognize and he doesn't know if he's going to be able to get through his first day by himself. 

Liam squeezes Louis' knee with his free hand, smiling reassuringly. "Don't worry," he says. "I'm sure everybody'll take it easy on you, and I think he's got a few friends in your year. They can help you out." 

It's not necessarily reassuring, but still, Louis nods, looking up again as Liam suddenly rolls to a stop. He's pulling into the park just beneath one of the more massive building's Louis' ever seen, weaving through rows of expensive black cars in search of a spot. 

"Home?" Louis guesses, and Liam grins. 

"Home." 

. 

Liam's flat is fucking enormous. 

It's almost bigger than Louis' house back home, and Louis' house back home is far from small. The ceilings are high, higher than Louis' ever seen, and the living room stretches so far in front of him he'd probably break a sweat crossing to the other side. 

He has several large couches pushed throughout the room, and Louis perches on the very edge of one, watching Liam as he carries the bag of cold medicine to the couch opposite him. There's a large pile of blankets curled up against one side, and Louis figures that Liam's boyfriend must be hiding beneath them. 

"Babe," he tells them, in English, and a hand is suddenly pushed out from beneath the blankets with its' palm turned upright. 

Liam snorts at it, and, given that it's impressively fluent English, Louis doesn't quite know what he says, but from what he can tell it's along the lines of, "My brother is here and wants to meet you," or whichever. 

There's a noise of disagreement from the blankets, before they shift, and a head appears suddenly from the top of them. His nose is red and his hair is mussed, much like he'd been sleeping beneath a blanket, but he's one of the more beautiful people Louis' seen and he looks like he'd fit right in with the expensive and high profile part of Liam's life. 

He smiles, nodding at Louis politely. "Hello," he says, and when he says it, it's Italian, and Louis' sure that he likes him already. "Louis, right?" Louis nods, and he smiles again. "I'm Zayn." 

"It's very nice to meet you," Louis says, and Zayn flashes him a grin. 

"You too. It'll be nice to have some more company." 

"Doesn't Liam keep you company?" Louis asks, and Zayn nods.

"Sometimes," he says. "But he's away a lot, filming." 

Louis nods again. He honestly can't survive more than a few minutes by himself before he starts to feel lonely, so the fact that Zayn can do it for what's probably days at a time is almost too impossible for him to wrap his head around. He wonders if that's the sort of thing that you can get used to, and if Zayn's fallen into a pattern of school and entertaining himself, or if he gets lonelier each day and only bothers to hide how mad he's going when Liam's around him again. Louis feels like he'd probably be in the latter category, but he also has a feeling that Zayn's a bit more put together than he is. 

"Does he leave for a long time?" He asks thoughtfully, and Zayn shrugs. 

"Not really. A few days at a time, sometimes."

"I have some time off now, though," Liam says, pressing the bottle of cold medicine into Zayn's hand as he sits down next to him. "We're between seasons right now." 

"Is his show any good?" Louis asks Zayn, who takes a long sip from the bottle before he nods. 

"It's alright." 

Liam rolls his eyes. "He's not a big fan," he says. "He thinks it's too repetitive." 

"Do _you_ like it?" Louis asks Liam, and he nods. 

"Wish I had more time off, though." 

"I wish I could act," Louis sighs, "and not go to school."

"School's not that bad," Zayn laughs, shaking his head. "It's not great, but it's not that bad." 

"I don't want to go," Louis sighs again. His complete lack of both English and social skills, paired with his lack of experience with public schooling and his intense dislike of having to do things on his own kind of cripple his desire to start school. He's normally quite studious, and he usually throws himself into his schooling, but he thinks he feels genuinely anxious and seriously considers, for a second, dropping out. 

He starts to chew on the end of his sleeve again, as Liam reaches his foot out to reassuringly kick Louis' knee. "You'll be fine," he says. 

Louis sighs again, tilting his head. "It's going to be hard."

"You can handle it," Liam promises. "Even I did a few years there. And if I can do it, you can do it." 

"But what if I can't do it?" He asks. 

"You can," he says. "It's your first day, anyway. I'm sure they'll take it easy on you."

Louis takes those words, and he clings to them, carrying them through the night and into the school the next day. He keeps telling himself that he'll be fine, and that it won't be so bad, but he knows that he's lying to himself even before he gets his schedule for the week. It's an unassuming piece of paper, pale pink and printed neatly, telling him that the first class of his first day is, unbelievably, English. 

He wants to fight the receptionist about it, but he doesn't know enough English to get the words out. The best he can do is frown at her, before the bell goes over head, and she waves him out of her office with another of her painfully polite smiles. Louis' heart sinks to his stomach, but he follows her lead, and leaves, slinking slowly to his English class with his schedule still clutched to his chest. 

The room is still mostly empty once he arrives, and he sighs to himself, dropping into a seat towards the front of the row and heaving his bag down beside him. It seems to be something of a lecture hall, with the seats all rounded around a wide stage, but Louis prays that the class won't actually have a lot of lectures because otherwise he's going to be fucked. He doesn't even bother with a notebook, because he knows he won't be able to take any notes, and instead keeps his head down until somebody walks up the aisle next to his desk and forcefully knocks into it with his hip. 

Louis looks up, as the other bloke looks down, looking mildly annoyed and more attractive than anybody Louis' ever seen in his life. He's tall, with broad shoulders and slim hips, and tattoos absolutely covering both of his arms and peaking out from beneath the neckline of his Henley. He has a bar through one of his eyebrows, and two through each of his collarbones, and he has a hoop that juts out from his lower lip and that he licks distractedly as he looks down at Louis, expression softening. 

"Oops," he greets, shrugging apologetically, and Louis nods. 

He's not exactly sure how to tell him that hey, it's alright, let me kiss you on the mouth, and all that comes out instead is, "'i."

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [tumblr](http://www.stylinsonvodka.tumblr.com) or else


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